


National Anthem

by 1337



Category: CountryHumans, Geography (Anthropomorphic)
Genre: Abuse, Alcoholism, Attempt at Humor, Cheating, Countries, Country Humans, CountryHumans - Freeform, Drama, Historically Inaccurate, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of Third Reich/Fascist Italy, Mentions of Third Reich/Japan, Minor America/Russia (CountryHumans), Minor Canada/Ukraine (CountryHumans), Nazi Germany, Personified countries, Short Chapters, Soviet Union
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2019-10-30 01:24:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17819165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1337/pseuds/1337
Summary: The USSR and the Third Reich have a complicated relationship.





	1. Are you sure you can’t stay?

“You can’t keep doing this, Third,” the USSR said to the Third Reich. “I never know where your head’s at.”

“Mm?” the Third Reich shifted, rolling onto his side, getting comfy in bed next to the USSR.

“You’re like, a loose cannon.” USSR remained on his back, arms behind his head to support his neck. A blanket was draped over his waist to keep his lower body warm; a blanket that also outstretched to cover the Third Reich’s lower half as well.

“A loose cannon you say?” his lips curled into an amused smile. He let out a soft chuckle.

“What’s so funny? I’m being serious, you know!”

“I’d say the bottle of vodka on your bedside would allude to you being the more uncontrollable one, dear. Although, that’s rather predictable of you, so I wouldn’t consider you a loose cannon.”

“…that’s a low blow.”

“At least you’re not denying your drinking problem,” the Third Reich shrugged his shoulders. 

“That has nothing to do with this. I never know what you’re going to do next, you know? And half of the time, I never know where you are.”

“I’m an extremely busy man,” he said flatly.

“As am I!” the USSR raised his voice slightly, letting his emotions get the better of him. “I just want commitment from you!”

“Oh, come on…” the Third Reich laid an arm over his eyes, mentally (and physically) exhausted. “Please stop ruining the moment.”

The USSR just lay there, still staring up at the ceiling, no emotion to be read across his face. After a few more moments of silence, the bed shifted to one side. 

The Third Reich raised up, his slim figure completely nude. USSR shifted his body to get a last glance of his lover as he dressed himself, pulling on black slacks, combat boots, and his signature Nazi uniform. After placing his hat on his head with one swift motion, the Third Reich faced the USSR again, flashing him a toothy grin.

“Your teeth are too pointed,” USSR frowned.

“Are they?” his smile didn’t falter, if anything he just seemed to find it funny.

“Yeah. I’m going to miss seeing that smile when I wake up. You sure you can’t stay the night?”

“It’s already 4, we _were_ up _all night,_ “the USSR swore that Third had a seductive glint in his eyes saying that last bit, but maybe he was just horny and overthinking it. “I’d like to head out before sunrise, you know how it goes.”

“I know,” and even though he did know, it didn’t make the USSR’s disappointment lessen. The Third Reich could hear that evident disappointment in USSR’s voice, and leaned over the bed, leaving a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll see you again in….. not too long, all right?”

“Okay,” a slight pink tinge washed over the USSR’s rosy red face. Watching the Third Reich make his exit and shut the door behind him, USSR slumped back into a comfy position. He was content, for now.


	2. Flower Crowns

The USSR woke to the sound of footsteps scattering around his home, accompanied by youthful laughter. _The kids must be awake,_ he thought. Realizing that he had still been in the nude after last nights escapades, and that Third had no way to lock the door, he was fortunate that no one had let themselves into his room. 

Although, after finding Russia and Ukraine in his bedside liquor stash last week, he’d understand why his bedroom door remained unopened. He had scolded the kids pretty hard after that. It was probably one of the USSR’s greatest fears, having his kids fall into the same dirty habits he did. 

Getting up and sliding his standard attire on, the USSR completed his look with his signature Soviet ushanka hat. Walking out into the hallway, he noticed a trail of muddy footsteps, going around in circles and leading out the door. Following said trail, the USSR spotted Belarus and Ukraine sitting in the grass, picking and collecting flowers. 

Hearing his entry, Belarus perked up. “Dad!” she jumped into USSR’s arms, pulling him into a big hug. He smiled. 

“Hey Bela, what are you guys up to?” his eyes shifted towards Ukraine, still sitting, a spiteful look on his face. _Must still be pissy from last week,_ USSR figured. 

“We’re making flower crowns,” Ukraine replied in a no nonsense voice. _Yep, definitely still pissy after getting caught raiding the liquor stash._

“Show dad the one you made!” Belarus enthusiastically jumped out of USSR’s arms, heading back to Ukraine’s side. Ukraine looked a bit embarrassed, but pulled a yellow and blue floral crown that had been tucked away with the surrounding shrubberies. Belarus quickly snatched it from his hands, and gestured for Ukraine to lean his head down to place the crown. He complied, and sheepishly looked back up at the USSR, his head adorned with the effeminate floral headpiece. Despite his facial expression still being unamused and unwavering, Ukraine’s eyes gave away a glint of embarrassment. 

“You always were an effeminate boy.” Ukraine’s mouth opened slightly, then quickly shut it, clear annoyance in his face. “I’m kidding, calm down. I’m glad you’re spending time with your sister though, and being a good influence,” he knew the shame with that last bit, but if Ukraine still wasn’t over last week at least the USSR would give him a reason to not be over it. “Anyway, where’s Russia?”

Ukraine shrugged, and his sister mimicked his action. _Well, that’s useful...._ “You two make sure something is cooked when your siblings get home, since I wouldn’t know where they are.”

“Well, you would know if you woke up earlier, but we all know last night you were too busy fuc—“

 _ **“LANGUAGE!”**_ The USSR shouted, shooting daggers at Ukraine. “I swear, try me one more time and I’ll get you in a headlock,” he grumbled almost unintelligibly under his breath. Ukraine stiffened, and lowered his head. He knew physical violence wasn’t an empty threat. 

“Well, I’m off. Remember what I said,” this had been directed to Ukraine. Looking over to Belarus, USSR offered a soft (but forced) smile and waved goodbye. 

He kept telling himself he was off looking for Russia to make sure he was staying out of trouble, but the USSR wasn’t good at lying to himself.


	3. Tattered Tent

The USSR roamed around, humming the Soviet national anthem to himself. Eventually he passed by a very tattered looking off-white and red tent, very dirty looking. A (less dirty looking) head peeked out, and eyes widened upon seeing the USSR.

“The USSR! Please—“

“Shut it Poland or I’ll hit you with a right hook. No one likes you, this is why you’re in a tent,” USSR grimaced upon seeing him, his face scrunched up in disgust of the poor sight and pitiful tent.

“But, my home—“

“Can it Poland or I’ll blow down your tent in one puff.” Poland shed a single tear, and tucked his head back away in his gloomy tent.

The USSR kept on roaming, seemingly mindlessly wandering; however he had a particular place in mind to stroll into. Once Third Reich’s house came into view with the infamous swastika flag raised, the USSR pulled a flask out of one of his pockets and downed it. Third was a loose cannon after all, and USSR wasn’t in the mood to be shut down. 

Walking up to the house, he knocked three times on the door, and waited. Tapping his foot on the concrete step, he really felt the vodka starting to kick in now. The familiar hot burning feeling filled his chest and stomach, and he just now realized he hadn’t eaten anything. Whoops, too late for that now! 

After a few moments and shifting to lean onto the door frame (he was _a bit tipsy_ after all), USSR heard an audible clicking of the door’s lock and it opened. In front of him stood a black, red, and yellow striped man about the same height as Third. He was wearing a white dress shirt and red tie, and behind his rectangular framed glasses were very, very sad eyes. 

“You’re not Third,” USSR stated with drunken confusion. 

“I’m Germany, dad’s not home,” Germany said. His voice wasn’t necessarily soft, but it lacked any confidence to it. The USSR thought the scent of beer wafted off of the man, and furrowed his brows. _Beer is for pussies, I should offer this man some vodka._

“Do you know when he’ll be home?” his words were slurred, not that he himself noticed. His stance faltered a bit, his body weight now completely shifted to the door frame. That flask might’ve been a bit stronger than he had intended. Well, _not precisely_ … he just hadn’t planned on _downing the whole fucking thing at once._

“Woah, are you all right? I think dad went to see Italy- hey!” The USSR had looked just as drunk as he was feeling. “You should come in and lay down, really!” USSR mumbled something that didn’t sound like it was coherent in any language, but didn’t protest as he was lead inside and helped onto a couch. He immediately succumbed to a drunken slumber.


	4. Just a flesh wound

The USSR woke up to a loud **crash,** his groggy eyes opening as quickly as they could. 

“Dad–! No, please!” a trembling, pained voice yelled. 

“What did I say about letting people into the house?” the Third Reich raised his voice. That familiar voice caught USSR’s attention, and he immediately sat up, his tired eyes coming to focus on the scene unfolding before him. 

“I’m sorry!” Germany had fear written in his eyes, he held his bloodied hands out in front of him, as if to shield himself. There appeared to be a white shard of glass in one of his hands and, looking down, there was a broken beer stein. Looking over at the Third Reich, his right hand was still raised slightly.

“Is that right?” Third returned his arm to his side, and turned to face the USSR. “Well well, it looks like our guest has awoken.” Turning back to Germany, he added: “Clean this shit up and get out of my sight.” Germany hurriedly picked up the broken pieces of glass in his torn and inured hands, disposing of them as hastily as he could and leaving his father’s sight.

“Is he okay….?” USSR asked, his eyes lingering on the hallway Germany had taken exit the area.

“He’ll be fine, he’s none of your concern anyway.” The Third Reich replied in an exasperated tone, clearly tired of having responsibility over Germany. 

“I understand, I have to deal with Russia and the others after all.” He didn’t understand completely though, not after seeing Germany’s bloody hands.

“Now then, to get to the point.. you shouldn’t come here. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I am a _very_ busy man. If I want to see you, I can come see you.”

“I missed you,” USSR watched as Third sat down beside him. He noticed that today the Third Reich seemed like he was genuinely lacking energy, and his usual bravado paired with his sharp smile was lacking. 

“I didn’t sleep last night, and I was _around_ a lot today,” Third leaned his back into the couch, and rested his eyes. “You know, I saw your boy Russia when I was out. Does he always screw around with America?”

_**“WHAT?”** _

“I saw them sitting together on a bench on America’s land. Russia looked relatively stoic, as usual of what I’ve seen of him, but America seemed a bit close. He had his hand on Russia’s leg. That can’t be too good of an influence on him, _hm_?” a small smug smile grew across his lips.

“No, it can’t be a good influence all right..,” the USSR clenched his teeth together.

“Hey,” Third’s hand crept to the USSR’s leg, “there’s much better things we could be doing than worrying about Russia.” He looked directly at USSR, noticing his expression shift from annoyance to longing. The USSR kicked off of his shoes and threw his coat to the floor, pulling his legs onto the couch and leaning over to the Third Reich. 

“I really did miss you,” he repeated from earlier, not caring how pitiful he sounded. They had spent all last night together after all, maybe the USSR was just being greedy. Nonetheless, he had already spoken.

“You did, did you?” Third smiled seductively, following suit in removing his footwear to get in a better position on the couch. He grabbed the USSR’s hips, pulling him onto his lap. _The USSR sure liked where this was going._ Moving in to kiss Third’s lips, he wrapped his bandaged arms around his neck. Grinding against the Third Reich’s uniformed hips, it was extremely evident how horny USSR was.

However, opening his eyes and breaking apart from a passionate kiss, the USSR noticed something.

“What the hell?”

“What?” the Third Reich raised one eyebrow, confused and irritated about the shift in the mood. One of the USSR’s fingers trailed to a particular spot on Third’s neck, and stayed there.

“What the hell is _**THIS?**_ ”

“It’s just a flesh wound,” Third spoke these words with humorous intent, yet his facial expression remained bemused.

“First of all, you can’t quote Monty Python. They’re British, and _they haven’t even come to fruition yet_!” The USSR didn’t bother hiding the displeasure in his voice. “And _secondly_ ,” he pulled down the neck of his shirt, “that’s a fucking _hickey_! Look right here, I have one that you gave me _last night_!” The Third Reich’s eyes widened, looking downwards as if he could view his own neck.

“Well, this is an unfortunate situation,” Third’s eyes met the USSR’s, his expression clouded.


	5. I just want to be with you

“You’re no fool, Soviet. I’m sure you’re aware of how important it is to keep relations strong between nations,” the Third Reich said in a very textbook-esque, explanatory way.

“There’s a huge difference between being diplomatic and being a whore!” The USSR was infuriated!

“A _whore?_ ” The Third Reich was taken aback. “I’m just maintaining good diplomatic relations! _Mein gott,_ I should not have to repeat myself.”

“Germany said you were with Italy.”

“Getting envious now are we?” While the USSR knew these words would usually be spoken by Third in a rather cheeky and playful way, they were flat and spiteful this time. “I’m disappointed in you, get off of me,” Third Reich shoved the USSR off of his lap, leaving the communist laying confused and uncomfortable off to one side of the couch.

The USSR couldn’t do anything other than look up at Third, the man he considered his lover, with widened shocked eyes. “I just want to be with you—”

“And where are you now?” He gave the USSR a sharp glare. “You turned up drunk and uninvited to my home, _while I wasn’t even home_ , and I didn’t protest; not until you started whining about how I live my life, anyway.”

“You know damn well what I meant!” USSR sat back up, infuriated, getting in the Third Reich’s face. 

“I don’t believe I do,” Third Reich grimaced. “You’re in my house, and we just banged last night. Those are facts, doesn’t that sound like ‘being together’ to you?”

**“YET YOU’RE SLEEPING AROUND LIKE A CHEAP WHORE!”**

“How small is your vocabulary? I’ve already assured you that word shouldn’t apply to me. Relations are strong between Italy and I, and, considering that we’re also close, that benefits you as well.”

“I’m not sleeping with anyone else,” the USSR spoke these words quivering quietly. The anger was turning to melancholy, and he could feel an odd sensation in his chest. While the word in his mind isn’t the most literal of words, he could only describe it to be one thing: heartbreak.

“I’m not holding you back,” the Third Reich stood up. “I’m tired, and the exit is that way. We can discuss these matters once you’re being sensical. Try not to drink yourself to death.”

The USSR wordlessly got up and dragged his slouching, defeated body to the exit Third gestured to. In all honesty, he was too in shock to protest. USSR kept looking back, his eyes lingering on the man whom he just moments ago considered to be his one and only lover. Upon reaching the door, he used the last bits of his energy to slam it shut, making sure the Third Reich could feel his house’s walls jolt a little.

He trudged back home, the weight on his shoulders feeling greater than before. A single tear shed from the USSR’s eye, and left a cold stain on his face, amplified by the outdoor breeze.


	6. Don't grow up to be me

The USSR had zero energy and was in a daze-like state on his return home. The only thing that stood out to him on his short venture was that Poland had been constructing a house, to which the USSR couldn’t help but throw a couple rocks at Poland as he passed him by.

Once his journey had ended and his house came into view, the flag of the Soviet Union waved around in the air, as if welcoming him home. As the USSR approached the door, his intuition seemed to kick in. Something felt… _off_. Opening the front door, it was unlocked (though, that was to be expected). However, immediately the USSR noticed that the air inside his house smelled terrible, almost skunk-like. His face scrunched up in a very disgusted expression, what the hell had happened to his house? 

Entering the hallway attached to the entryway, USSR could immediately hear voices: some familiar, some not so much. 

“Bro, this is like, super strong! Almost as strong as me!” 

“Of course the vodka is strong, I am Russian. Also, comrade, I am not your ‘ _bro_ ’.” This voice the USSR immediately recognized as his son’s, that accent being recognizable anywhere. He also thought he could hear Ukraine’s laughter from a distance, however this would be further away from where Russia’s voice and the unfamiliar voice came from. Walking toward the sound, the sight the USSR saw in front of him took him aback.

Russia had been sitting at the dining table with America next to him— directly next to him, America had pulled the chair as close as it could go. Looking closer, it was visible that the American had an arm stretched over the Russian’s shoulders. USSR was in shock; he had wanted none of this! 

Just as the USSR was ready to roll up his sleeves and fully enter the room, making his presence known, he heard Ukraine’s laughter again. His eyes immediately locked onto where the sound was coming from, and spotted Ukraine sitting on a lounger next to a flannel-wearing man with a red maple leaf emblem smack in the center of his face. In Ukraine and the maple man’s hands were what appeared to be cigarettes. The room smelled much stronger than the hallway had, and he took a step in.

“ **What the _HELL is going on in here_**?” the USSR’s voice was loud and booming, immediately bringing all the attention onto him. The American’s arm immediately shot back to his side, attempting to scoot his chair away from being in Russia’s personal space. Four sets of bewildered eyes stared back at the USSR. 

Ukraine was the first to stand up, taking a drag off of what USSR had still presumed to be a cigarette, and walked towards him. “Dad, aren’t you supposed to be at Third’s house?” As Ukraine got closer, the USSR noticed his son hadn’t been smoking tobacco.

“What the—“ he started to say, however closed his mouth upon remembering Third’s comment about him having a ‘small vocabulary’. “You’re gay _and_ a druggie now?” Ukraine opened his mouth to reply, but his partner he was sitting with rushed to be beside him.

“Actually, as of 2018 recreational marijuana is legal in Canada,” Canada said. The USSR could have slapped himself for not recognizing the Canadian, however it’s hard not to forget about him when America is often right next to him. 

“Does this look like Canada to you?”

“Dad, I can expla—“ Ukraine was cut off.

“HEY, WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?” USSR’s head shot back to the American’s direction, seeing him trying to sneak out of the dining room.

“Dude, I know the whole ‘meeting the parents’ thing is important and all, but tonight is not the night!” America gave a sympathetic smile to Russia, and ran out of the house like his life depended on it. 

“I am not amused by any of this,” USSR grumbled, clearly not amused by any of this. 

“We really didn’t think you’d be back tonight,” Russia had a nervous edge to his voice, although it was evident he was trying to mask it. It was also noticeable that his speech was a bit faster than the usual Russia the USSR was used to. 

“You’re drunk!” he pointed to Russia and the bottle of his vodka that sat in front of him. “And _you_ ,” he turned towards Ukraine. “You’re high!”

“I think you’re just stating the obvious, sir,” Canada retorted back in a calm voice.

“You’re overstaying your welcome, Canada. Get. OUT,” the USSR grit his teeth. This was turning into one of the worst evenings of his life. Canada proceeded to get up, wrap the Ukraine into a hug, and whisper something into his ear that made Ukraine’s cheeks turn red. “NOW, CANADA.” Canada raised a hand to say goodbye, and then made his exit. 

“I can’t believe you two. Ukraine, throw that trash into the trash where it belongs and go to your room. I never expected much from you anyway.” The trash he was referring to was Ukraine’s joint, and Ukraine hastily complied and left to go to his room. 

USSR sat down next to Russia, trying to calm down slightly so he could better understand the situation. “You’ve been avoiding me, Russia.”

“I know,” he hung his head.

“I’ll ignore the fact that you raided my liquor cabinet for just a moment, but it’s not happening again.” Russia nodded in acknowledgement of this. “Now Russia, about America… is it the stars you like?”

“What?” Russia looked up, confused.

“You know, 50 stars. America has an obsessive amount of stars, it’s almost an eyesore. If it’s stars you like, why don’t I just arrange a date with Vietnam? She has one bigger and better star, in much better colours too. Also, she’s hardworking, and she’s a girl.” 

“America and I aren’t…” his voice trailed off. 

“I saw his arm around you, there’s no point in continuing to be a liar,” USSR could feel his attempt at approaching the situation calmly sifting away. “You’re my favourite son, Russia. I want you to be safe, and I want you to be happy. Please,” the USSR looked at him very seriously. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Don’t grow up to be me.”

“I’ll never grow up to be you!” Russia stood up in a flash, his chair wobbling behind him. “Do you think I _want_ to be some abusive alcoholic? You even suggesting that I’d grow up to be that disgusts me!” Although his words were firm and like a stab to the USSR, they were a bit messy and slurred. USSR wondered just how much he had drank, and picked up the bottle that was on the table. 

“You drank.. all of this..?” 

“It wasn’t full in the first place, damn it! And it wasn’t just me, I had America here too. Are you blind now too?”

“Quit giving me attitude, I’m sick and tired of your bullshit! I try to sit down and talk to you, _hell_ , I even offer to set you up with a woman! You should be grateful. I am the one who puts the food on the table, the one that houses you, the one that proudly calls you the favourite son.” The USSR had to pause to breath, his hand tightened around the vodka bottle with anger.

“I wish I could be independent! All you do is drink, yell, and fuck with nazis!” He started to walk away, but the USSR was not done with the conversation yet. Without much thought to it, USSR clumsily threw the empty vodka bottle at Russia. 

The bottle missed its target and hit the floor, shattering clear pieces of glass all over the floor. “You’re cleaning that up, I am done with this tonight.” 

“Yes,” Russia uttered back a reply, a conflicted and horrified expression spread across his face. He picked up a particularly sharp medium-sized piece of glass and pocketed it. USSR saw this, and stood and watched as Russia swept up the rest. Upon throwing them out, he never took the shard he pocketed out of his pant pocket.

“Russia…,” a wave of regret immediately had flooded USSR. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean... well..,” he was at a loss of what to say. “Listen. I love you son.”

“Yeah,” Russia’s voice was unreadable. He left the room, leaving USSR alone. The USSR finally took off his coat and placed it on the back of one of the dining room chairs. He looked down at his own bandaged arms, and sighed.

He hoped Russia would never grow up to be like him.


	7. What have you done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mentions of self harm.

He lay on his back, eyes studying the familiar bedroom. The USSR was not only exasperated, but at a complete loss of what to do with himself. He had failed as a parent. He had failed as a lover. What next, would his nation dissolve? Life had spiralled out of control seemingly all at once. USSR even lacked the energy to pick up the bottle he couldn’t help but notice on his nightstand. Unintentionally, he found himself picking at the scabs on his arms, unsure when he had peeled the bandages off of himself. 

The USSR was a sad, sober mess.

It was seemingly hours that had passed, although in approximation it was likely closer to 60 minutes. Drops of blood stained the bed sheets where his arms lay, a blacker toned shade of crimson in contrast to the red bedding. Disgusted, defeated, and arms defiled, the USSR shot up; the phone that sat upon the bedside table had began to ring. He shakily grasped it and pulled it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Is your door unlocked?” USSR froze. He could have recognized that heavy German accent on the other end of the phone line from a kilometre away. 

“Third—“ although his voice was about to break, the USSR was cut off.

“Your front door, is it unlocked?” Third repeated without a change of tone. USSR thought there was a nervous edge to his voice, but that kind of thing is hard to tell over the telephone. Besides, this is _Third_ he’s talking to! Why would the overzealous nazi be nervous about something?

“I think so,” he replied with mild uncertainty. He tended to leave the door unlocked more often than not now due to the one time Ukraine was locked outside on a winter night. The USSR didn’t care too much; after all, his son should be used to the cold. However, Ukraine still bitterly mentioned it from time to time and the USSR didn’t want a repeat of that incident for him to bitch over.

“In that case, I’ll be right over,” with that, the phone line went silent. USSR kept the phone to his ear for a few moments, as if expecting Third to elaborate despite having audibly hung up. 

As the USSR went back to laying on his bed, a thousand thoughts began to race through his mind. How would Third react to seeing him like this? Was Third’s intent to come and sever ties with him? If he wasn’t coming for that, would he want to sever ties after seeing USSR in such a weak and vulnerable state? Not only did the USSR feel like he had let down himself, but he had let down Third too. No wonder why Third saw other people, how could he blame him? He spent a while contemplating all of the tragic possibilities. 

Interrupting USSR’s flood of pessimistic thoughts, he was certain that he heard a door slam in the house. The possibility of Ukraine or Russia having a fit of teen angst and running away was present, but he decided this would be unlikely even after tonight’s troubling evening. It soon became evident that there were footsteps in the hallway. The USSR mentally braced himself for whatever was about to unfold; and with that, the bedroom door opened.

“... _hallo_?” the Third Reich spoke at a barely audible volume as he peeked his head into the room. It hadn’t been long since he had called, but he wanted to ensure that USSR was still awake. It had been late into the evening.

He raised his head and looked up at Third, greeting him with a sad, half-hearted smile. Third took this as an OK to enter the room, and slipped in, shutting the door behind him. It was only then that he could get a good look at the USSR and study the scene in front of him. 

A liquor bottle filled about halfway stood on the nightstand, and beyond that, the USSR was in bed, laying on top of the covers. His arms weren’t wrapped in intricate off-white bandaging; this was an abnormality for the USSR, as to Third these bandages were just apart of USSR’s day to day appearance. In place of the bandages were bloodied red marks, and Third couldn’t help but feel repulsed by seeing this. Not necessarily at the cuts, rather, he felt disgusted by himself and the stress he must have caused the USSR to feel. 

“Soviet.. what have you done?” Third tried not to sound horrified by the scene in front of him, but his voice betrayed him, instead coming out as a mixture of shock and disappointment. 

“Have you come to sever ties with me?” USSR made eye contact. He meant this question, and he meant it dead seriously. The USSR wanted a direct and honest answer, he didn’t want any more lies. He didn’t want any more uncertainty. 

“What kind of question is that? You’ve gone delirious!” Third rushed to his side with a pained scowl on his face, a glimmer of his pointy teeth showing. “Just how much blood have you lost? Shit, you’re such a fool! Do you know how bad of a situation you’re in? Did you drink the entire half of that bottle at once too? Where the hell are your bandages?” 

“Bedside table. Top drawer, above the cabinet with the liquor stash,” USSR informed in exasperation. “And I didn’t drink any tonight. Not enough energy to. If I had some vodka in me I’d likely be a little less despairing right now,” he paused briefly. “While you’re at it, feel free to hand me the bottle too.” 

“Not a chance,” Third had swiftly gathered up the bandaging tape and grabbed USSR’s closest arm to begin wrapping it. “The hell has gotten into you? Now you’ve got me worried sick! Do you know how conflicting it is for me to be distressed over a communist’s well-being?” 

“I’m tired of all of this. I’m unwanted by you, and my sons… oh Third, I’ve failed as a parent. They’re going down the wrong path.”

“ _Ja_ , and how’s Belarus? You have a daughter too you know,” he tried to distract USSR from all of the negativity clearly on his mind. Doing this, he took the USSR’s other arm and began patching that one up as well.

“Bela is lovely,” there was a shift in tone. “She’s going to grow up to be a kind and beautiful lady, you know that? I wish I could be a better influence for her.”

“There’s always time to change that.”

Switching back to a bitter tone, the USSR added: “And I wish Russia and Ukraine could be better influences for her. Especially Ukraine. Did you know he’s a gay druggie?”

“Mm, no, I wasn’t aware of that. He’s not my son though, so I’d be surprised if I did know that.. ah! There we go, you’re all patched up now. Now tell me Soviet, what the _hell_ is going through that thick skull of yours tonight?”

“You’re cheating on me,” USSR’s voice was quiet. “And after finding that out, I came home to see Russia and Ukraine had brought men back to the house. Men.. North American men at that! I wouldn’t put it past Ukraine, you know,” he began to ramble. “He’s always been a very feisty and effeminate boy. But Russia? My Russia? Never in a million years would I have….” his voice trailed off. 

“I’m not cheating on you,” saying this Third’s brows furrowed, then softened again. “Listen.. I never..,” he stopped in contemplation, clearly choosing his words. “I never initiate any of it. It’s not enjoyable, and it’s not something I want.”

“By the way you speak of it, it wasn’t just a one time thing,” USSR scoffed.

Third grew tired of sitting on the edge of the bed, as he had to go bandage USSR, and pulled himself up to lay next to the other man and speak more directly. “The point is, while I can’t change the past and I can’t promise you it won’t happen again in the future, I can assure you the likelihood of it happening again will be significantly lower than it was previously.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean? How is that supposed to be reassuring?”

Those were the words it took to make Third lose his composure. “ _Gott_ , I am trying so hard with you! None of this is fake, Soviet, _none_ of this! I wish it were, I wish I didn’t willingly stay up tonight only to enter the bedroom of another man, but here I am! All of my feelings that you see, all of these affections towards you, they’re all real. Every damn one of them. And right now, I’m worried sick for you. I don’t want to lose this, and _I don’t want to lose you_.”

“I want to believe that. I want to believe all of that,” USSR’s gaze into Third’s eyes was intense. Just how much had he meant those words? Sure it was unusual of Third’s character for him to say those things, but the USSR didn’t want to cling to false hopes.

“I’m staying the night,” Third interrupted his thoughts. Now that was an absolute first for him to hear.

“How? You’re always busy… and why now? Why not before?”

“I cancelled everything tomorrow because I want to spend it all with you. Sometimes you never realize what you have until it’s gone, and I’ve made the realization now. I don’t want to lose you,” he stressed that last line once more. 

“It’s strange to see you like this. Perhaps I’m dreaming,” USSR tried to rationalize Third’s uncharacteristic and sappy behaviour. These words were pleasant to hear, but they were extremely peculiar when coming from Third’s lips.

The USSR remain laying on his back, eyes darting over to Third as the bed shifted and he heard some shuffling. Third had stripped himself down to a white button-down shirt and black undergarments, then he returned back to laying next to USSR. “I’ll be here when you wake. I’m not going anywhere tonight, or tomorrow. Just make me one promise,” he said this while fiddling with the bed sheets, trying to grasp them from underneath the USSR’s legs without having to make him get up in order for Third to retrieve them.

“I knew this was all too sweet. What’s the catch?”

“Don’t hurt yourself again, you fucking idiot. You know, I’d slap you right now but that would be like pouring salt into a wound,” Third spoke these words wearily but with his usual fieriness and flare. He had managed to obtain the blankets from underneath USSR, and pulled them over the two of them.

“Third,” the USSR shifted slightly towards him and captured his lips in a brief kiss. “You have a lot to make up for.”

“And you’ve got a lot of rest to get. Go to sleep,” the Third Reich rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that crept to his lips after seeing the USSR’s relieved grin. He leaned over to pull the cord on the lamp next to him, as Third was the closest one to the bedside table, then shut his eyes. 

Before the USSR could succumb to the drowsiness and darkness, he moved his hand to find and overlap with Third’s. He accepted this gesture, and the warmth of Third’s hand was the last thing the USSR could remember before drifting off into a well needed slumber.


	8. You're not subtle at all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sex.

As the USSR awoke, it was immediately made clear that this morning was unlike the usual standard he was used to. A warmth met his side, and as he glanced over, Third had been leaning against him. One of the Third Reich’s arms draped over the USSR’s torso; he could see the arm raise and lower slightly every time his chest moved with his pattern of breath. 

“You stayed,” USSR spoke softly, unsure if he wanted Third to wake yet. While he was impatient to hear the other man’s voice, another part of him was screaming to cherish these moments longer. After all, there’s no guarantee he’ll have his lover waking up by his side again. Sure, it’s a very pitiful thing to think, but the USSR knew that it hadn’t happened before. Also, how topsy turvy his relationship with Third was… it was better for the USSR to be a realist rather than an optimist in scenarios like this.

The Third Reich lazily opened his eyes, staring at USSR’s face with absent-mindedness. After blinking once, he sat up and yawned, stretching his arms. “Good morning love. Now, where did I put my hat.. I feel naked without it,” his drowsiness eminently clear by the sound of his voice.

“Wh… I think it’s beside the bed,” USSR stumbled over his words in reply: caught completely off guard by getting called such an affectionate word. Sure it wasn’t abnormal nor a rare occurrence for their ‘relationship’, but it still never failed to heat up his face and leave him surprised.

“Why are you getting all red looking at me? It isn’t as if I slept in the nude this time. Although,” Third glanced over at the clock. “...depending on what time you normally eat breakfast, I may have some time to get undressed instead.”

The USSR was _definitely_ feeling heated now. Seeing as it was only 8 in the morning, he knew breakfast wasn’t cooked until after 10. That is, _if_ Ukraine even cooked breakfast. USSR shook away the thoughts of his effeminate son being a slacker when it comes to the kitchen, and returned to what was in front of him. “Yes,” he said, keeping things simple.

“Yes? Is that all you have to say? I’m trying to seduce you here, _sir_.”

“I’m not protesting,” a grin spread across his face. This was his Third. He loved when Third was like this. The USSR began to sit up, but was immediately shut down.

“ _Tsk tsk_ , you think you’re going to take control after the stunt you pulled last night?” USSR didn’t like the reminder these words had, but chose not to interrupt him. “Not today you won’t,” Third declared, climbing on to the USSR, sitting on top of his lap as the other continue to lay. 

“Are you going to fuck me?” USSR asked bluntly, filled with confused curiosity. That wasn’t something they had done yet, not that the USSR was completely opposed to trying new things, it just wasn’t how things had escalated for them in their previous escapades to date. 

“Am _I_ going to _fuck you_? Hmm, that’s a good question,” Third pretended to be in thought for a second. “We’ll have to wait and see, _ja_? But first, I’m a bit cold..,” he got off of his lover, furthering the USSR’s interest and perplexion. 

The Third Reich immediately went to retrieve his SS jacket and pulled it over himself, along with placing his signature uniformed hat back onto his head. “I thought you were going to get undressed..?” USSR was clueless as to where this was going now.

“And _I am_ ,” he said as he climbed back onto the bed, pulling down his undergarments at an angle that gave the USSR a good show. “I’m also well aware of the look you give me when I’m in uniform, so I think you might get a kick out of this.” After delivering these words with a seductive grin, he returned to his position atop the USSR. “Now, you just need to get _your_ pants off.”

“You’re not subtle at all,” USSR couldn’t help but chuckle. All of yesterday’s arguments and revelations were pushed to the back of his mind; the Third in front of his eyes was the Third Reich he knew and loved. He also happened to be the same Third Reich he lusted after, and that became _increasingly prevalent_ as Third’s fingers hooked themselves under his waistband to pull down his sleep pants. 

“And down here isn’t exactly _subtle_ either, you know,” he had pulled USSR’s pants down over his groin, revealing his sizable Soviet cock. The Third Reich grasped it with his right hand, his jacket sleeve brushing against it sent a pang of warmth to the laying man’s body. “I’m almost envious about how large yours is,” he gently rubbed his thumb over the head of the USSR’s cock, eliciting a breathy sigh of pleasure from him. 

“Yours is just fine Thir– _oh_ ,” his train of thought immediately ceased as Third repositioned himself and grabbed the Soviet man’s legs, pushing them aside and leaning his upper half in closer so his face could be level with USSR’s member. 

USSR reflexively reached down to put a hand on the back of Third’s head, seeing as it was obvious that Third intended to go down on him. However, he hesitated— he wasn’t used to Third keeping his hat on, and he wasn’t sure if Third would have a negative or positive reaction to such a staple part of his significant uniform being touched. This hesitation lead to the USSR placing his hand on Third’s shoulder instead, hating how he couldn’t feel the other man’s skin through the fabric, but appreciating the aesthetics of his black militaristic attire nonetheless. 

“What would you like me to do?” At Third’s words, the USSR could _feel_ the Nazi's breath against his cock, and he grew even more impatient than before. Third had known what the USSR wanted, and he also knew how much this teasing and prolonging stirred his partner on.

“Is that even a question?” his grip on Third’s clothed shoulder tightened slightly, his patience becoming equally as impatient and strained as his erection was. This won over a chuckle from Third. He didn’t shy away from making direct eye contact with the USSR and giving an overwhelmingly seductive grin before proceeding to run his tongue along the base of the USSR’s shaft, running it upward until he reached the tip.

“Third, _please_ —“

“Why don’t we just skip the foreplay?” The Third Reich proposed. He sat up and licked his lips, giving the USSR’s dick a few strokes as he repositioned himself once more. “You’re clearly already ready to go, and I’m just as eager to ride you,” these words were delivered in the most nonchalant (but still clearly arousing to the USSR) way, fitting of Third but still a bit humorous to hear it in such an overly casual tone.

“You’re just going to tease me like that?” A genuine glimmer of puzzlement lay under these flirtatious words.

“Affirmative,” Third grinned.

“I can’t tell if you’re just saying that to..,” once more, the USSR was cut off. Although, in this circumstance one could argue that he shut himself up. USSR couldn’t suppress a gasp escaping from his lips as the Third Reich had went from straddling him to lifting himself over the USSR’s rigid rod. “This is going a lot faster than usual,” he commented as Third swiftly retrieved a beside lubricant and hastily used some to coat the USSR’s cock. As Third began to slide himself onto USSR’s member, the USSR felt his breath hitch– the sensation was overwhelming, and everything was drowned out. The only person in his world right now was Third.

“Mm.., well,” Third began to answer his question, snapping the USSR back into focus. He panted slightly, his accented voice higher and mildly strained from the bodily intrusion. “I’m feeling a lot needier than usual.” Third made sure to keep his eyes on his lover’s face while speaking these words; he loved to see and feel the USSR heat up. 

After the USSR’s impressively sized dick was fully sheathed inside the half-uniformed man, he noticed that he could feel the heavy fabric of Third’s uniform brushing against his abdomen. This was a foreign sensation to him, and he’d be lying if he said the extra friction didn’t add something to the whole affair. 

Careless and drunk on each other, all of their worries temporarily vanished in these cherished moments of blissful affections they shared together. USSR’s craving for liquor was absent, and the only person to cross the Third Reich’s mind was none other than the USSR. These moments shared ended seemingly as quickly as they began, and the two men soon found themselves cuddled in close to each other with abnormal patterns of breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely stepped out of my comfort zone with this one, and that's why it took forever to get this written to upload. I'm not overly familiar with writing these types of scenes, so I hope it suffices. Additionally, I've changed the story's age rating to explicit.


	9. Oversized Coat

Sounds of water seemed to almost echo coming from inside the open bathroom door. USSR had been the first to briskly bathe and cleanse himself, as he prefers not to waste water or time when it comes to showering. Now, while lacing his boots, the sound of water falling from Third using his shower provided somewhat of a peaceful ambience. 

The Third Reich was insistent that his uniform was sullied after the actions he and the USSR had just shared. Due to this, not only did the USSR have to get himself dressed for the day, but also try to find something for his lover to wear. This may sound simple enough, however, the Third Reich was a great deal shorter than the USSR was. The taller man worried that no matter what he picked out from his wardrobe would end up looking comedic on Third.

And indeed it did look comedic. USSR had set out a dark brown shirt and along fluffy jacket for Third. Once the Third Reich was finished bathing, he stepped out to clothe himself. The clothing was acceptable– his pants and boots were still clean, so he pulled those back on. The only issue was how goofy the long jacket looked with Third’s slimmer frame and shorter stature. 

“Is this the best you could have chosen?” he huffed, dramatically placing his hat back on his head.

“You don’t have to wear the jacket,” USSR frowned. Truth be told, he enjoyed the sight of his oversized coat on Third. “But if you don’t wear it, don’t complain to me if you’re cold.” 

“Fair enough,” Third placed his hands on his hips. “Now what shall we do?”

“Ukraine should have breakfast ready,” he didn’t look at Third while speaking these words. Instead, the USSR found his flask and filled it with vodka before placing it into his coat pocket.

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been drinking already this morning.”

“I haven’t,” USSR answered truthfully. “Just preparing for the day.” He could see the Third Reich shrug in response to this, but Third must’ve known that there was nothing more he could do right now to curb the USSR’s addiction. “Are you fine finding the dining room on your own? I have to make a quick phone call.”

“Is it something I’m not supposed to hear?” Third teased, although the curiosity was clearly present in his voice.

“No, you can stay then. If Ukraine and the others are already eating breakfast, they’d probably prefer me entering the room with you, rather than you just intruding,” USSR sighed. He really wanted to get breakfast and other matters aside already so he could finally spend a nice day alone with the Third Reich. He made his quick phone call (to whom it was a mystery to Third), and the two men carried on towards the dining room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at the end of April intending for this to be a long chapter, but things became hectic. Anyway, this story will continue to be updated! Next chapter, Breakfast at the Soviet Union, will be far more entertaining.. that I can promise! I've had things for the next few chapters planned out for a good while now.


End file.
